


Shadows Dance

by Lalaith_Quetzalli



Series: Time River [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Families of Choice, Family, Fix-It, Friendship, Human Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Hunters, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Misunderstandings, POV Third Person, Pack Building, Pre-Slash, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, True Alpha Derek Hale, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 12:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18964807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalaith_Quetzalli/pseuds/Lalaith_Quetzalli
Summary: It’s always hard for new packs to grow into themselves, it’s even harder when half the members are keeping secrets from the other half, and even from each other; and yet, they need the pack, for in the end, it’s the only way they’ll survive.





	Shadows Dance

**Author's Note:**

> A new piece is here and, as you'll soon see, this one is told a bit differently. Still in 3rd person narrator, but the tenses... they get a bit wonky. It still all has a reason and you can understand it, I'm sure. In any case, the very beginning of this fic is one of the three reason Time River exists at all (the other two being my desire to have a sane Peter wake up from that coma, and Stiles having the place he deserves rather than just being a joke/convenient researcher/punching bag as the mood struck (as it struck everyone else). Everything else followed from that.
> 
> So... enjoy!

**Shadows Dance**

Stiles knew, when they took that leap into the past, that things would change, and more than just what Lydia and he chose to change. It was something he knew all along, a natural consequence he… they, accepted for the chance at making things better than the first time around. One that was shown quite clearly (graphically) to them with the death of Henry Tate in that car accident, Scott's last asthma attack, The Argents' early arrival, the lack of Derek, Laura's crazy attack, Kate's own attack… yet, if there was one thing Stiles never expected, one thing he never imagined being even in the realm of possibility, it was ever standing against the boy who was as good as his own brother… Even if they hadn't been close for months, almost a year. Scott was… he was family, and yet…

That's exactly what's happening right this moment. As they all stand there, in that clearing, just outside an abandoned warehouse, in a most tense stand-off. Pack, vs, hunters. Stiles of course is standing with his pack, and Scott… he's standing with the hunters…

**xXx**

All Stiles wanted was a few days of peace. Just a few days. The case had been solved, Kate was dead while her accomplices would be getting to spend a good few years behind bars, Peter was awake, Laura hadn't attacked them again, the 'pack' was flourishing… was it too much to ask for a little peace?! Apparently, it was.

First there was Gerard Argent, he'd arrived for Kate's funeral; the real problem was when he stayed. He harassed Noah, about his daughter's death, as if waiting to catch the sheriff in a lie. They knew, of course, he wanted to blame werewolves for her death. Even if the claw marks on her were so shallow they'd barely drawn any blood at all, even when it was quite clear she died from the bullet wounds, and it was on-file that the gun was the sheriff's personal one, that he was the one to fire (that was the only part they lied on, as Peter warned Noah that Gerard might seek vengeance for the death of his daughter). Stiles knew, he understood that he needed to stick to the official version of events, and while he hated his dad putting himself in Gerard's crosshairs to protect him… he also understood why he did.

"Just, I'll make something very clear, he comes after this family, this pack, again, and all bets are off." Stiles stated in a voice so serious and edged with a darkness that hinted at his own past (at the future that, hopefully, would never be).

"If he tries anything I'll tear out his throat." Peter snarled.

"With your teeth?" Stiles asked with a smirk, unable to help himself.

He and Lydia chuckled at that one, though the others just blinked, not really getting it. Then again, that was to be expected, since it hadn't happened yet…

As if Gerard's arrival and his insistence on blaming a wolf, any wolf, for his daughter's demise weren't bad enough. Then the sheriff found Laura Hale's body… or rather, half of it.

"Really?!" Stiles snapped, unable to hold back his near-hysteric rant. "This?! Again?!" He kicked at a wall. "I thought we managed to avoid all this when she failed to appear back in January?! How the hell did this happen, and why now?!"

"I didn't do it." Peter called out straight out.

"Of course you didn't do it Peter." Lydia scoffed in her tone of 'you are being stupid, stop it'.

"She was cut in half, chances are, Gerard did it, and if not him directly, one of his guys." Stiles pointed out evenly.

"Yes, but why?" Jackson pressed.

"I have no idea Jackson!" Stiles snapped. "Last time around Peter was nuts, and Laura was dead even before she was cut in fucking half!"

Only the ones who knew about the time-travel were present in that moment (which meant Stiles, his dad, Peter, Lydia and Jackson).

"Derek will be coming." Peter pointed out.

"Will he?" Noah inquired, curious. "I mean, not be cruel or anything Peter but you didn't know she was dead until we found the body…"

"Because she wasn't my pack." Peter did his best to explain. "Not since she abandoned me, six years ago. And then when you all visited me at the hospital, you kept going, and kept talking, and trying and… you became my pack. You know that, you can feel it."

"Yeah…" Jackson nodded. "How does that work exactly. I mean, we don't have an alpha, I thought a pack needed one of those. Most of us aren't even wolves!"

"I think it's all thanks to our good friend Stiles… our surrogate alpha." There was a gleam in Peter's eyes as he said that.

Stiles said nothing at all, though he looked like he might go bang his head against a wall at any moment. It wasn't like he didn't know, or at the very least suspected that it was his magic that had helped create the pack-bonds that connected all of them. He was sure even Erica and Boyd must be able to feel them, at least to a point, though since they still didn't know about the supernatural they had no idea what it was, and no one was saying anything about it yet.

"We still need an alpha, a real one." Stiles muttered as he ran a hand through his hair.

He was letting it grow, no longer liking the buzzcut. He didn't intend to let it get quite as long as he'd worn it in the other future… but still (and definitely no beard. Der… others might look really hot with facial hair, him? Not so much).

Stiles knew exactly who he'd prefer as the alpha, but he had no idea how that would even be possible. Unless Derek inherited Laura's alpha spark upon her death, and a part of Stiles believed (or wanted to) that if Derek were an alpha, he'd know, somehow.

"So, Derek's coming, he won't like knowing Laura's dead." Lydia summarized. "Do we even know why she was attacking us the other night? Why she came back late? Or at all?"

"No, no, and once again, no." Stiles shook his head. "This is going to be a nightmare…"

And contrary to popular opinion, he hated being right. Or at least he did sometimes. Like right then. When Derek Hale arrived to Beacon Hills two days later, and suddenly they had even more trouble piling on them all.

Thankfully (or not so much) the first time they met it happened in the burnt ruins of the Hale manor and Stiles was alone. Lydia knew he was there, Stiles told her he was going to check out that their ritual was holding. The fact that Deaton hadn't tried anything since the last time was worrying him, rather than setting him at ease. Laura's attack… that had not been an accident. And with Laura dead, it really was only a matter of time.

Stiles was so focused on the protection they'd placed that he didn't really notice he was being stalked. Wasn't aware of anything at all until he found himself being slammed against a charred wall hard enough he feared it might actually fall on him at any moment, not to mention all the dust and blackened plaster that fell upon him.

Stiles blinked, instinctively bracing himself for a fight, even as a corner of his mind wondered at the lack of response from his magic. When his eyes actually laid on Derek he had to almost bite his lip to keep from calling out his name like a part of him really, really wanted to. He understood then why his magic hadn't acted out to defend him. It was because there was no way that in that or in any world (timeline, universe, etc) he would see Derek Hale as an enemy…

"What did you do to Laura?!" Derek actually growled into his face.

The (physically) older male was so completely out of control that there was an animal undertone to his growl, and his eyes flashed, if only for a second, they flashed blue…

"Hey! You're still a beta…" Stiles blurted out, unable to help himself.

He realized his mistake when Derek pulled him away from the wall just to slam him against it again, a piece of wall actually falling off then.

"What do you know about that?!" Derek demanding, going fully into beta-shift.

Stiles's mind ran as fast as possible as he sought the best possible answer to that question. In the end he decided to go with the truth (always the best when dealing with weres and other such creatures capable of hearing a lie), just not all of it.

"My little sister is a were." He answered simply. "Of course I know!"

"Your sister…?" That clearly threw Derek for a loop.

"Her name is Malia, I found her in the woods months ago, she… I suppose she grew attached quickly, didn't want to leave, and dad decided to adopt her." Stiles had always been good at spinning stories, there wasn't a single lie in his words, he just wasn't saying everything.

"So you know I am…" Derek cut off.

"A were, yes." Stiles nodded. "Now, mind telling me why you're threatening me?"

That seemed to bring Derek back to the matter at hand though, thankfully, he didn't decide to slam Stiles against the wall again (the boy had a feeling that, had he tried, both of them might have ended going through the wall…).

"What did you do to Laura?!" Derek demanded again in a growl. "What did you do to my sister? Answer me!"

Stiles could have sworn he felt a pull then. A pull to obey, to submit… but that was impossible. Derek was a beta not an alpha! Stiles exhaled, far as he knew it wasn't even Derek's fault but Stiles's own, it was probably the memory of hi… the other Derek.

"We did nothing to her." Stiles answered evenly. "Mal… my little sis, she was the one who found, well, one half of the body. My dad's deputies found the other half that same night."

"Your dad's deputies?" Derek's eyes narrowed.

"My dad's the sheriff." Stiles answered simply. "Noah Stilinski." He made a pause before adding, in a softer voice. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Derek looked so lost right then… it was just for a few seconds, but it still took every ounce of his will for Stiles to hold back, to not embrace the were tightly, hold him, promise him everything would be alright, that he didn't have to be alone… and then Derek pulled himself together, still looking darkly at Stiles.

"You did something." He snarled. "I know you did. And I will find out what!"

He let go of Stiles, so abruptly the boy fell on his ass, not quite knowing what to say, do, or even think, as Derek Hale turned his back on him and stalked out of the place. Stiles didn't know if he wanted to cry or scream in that moment. In the end he settled for punching the ground, feeling a degree of satisfaction from the way the floor creaked under the force of the hit. Then he made himself stand and return to his jeep. His phone was in hand and he was dialing before he was even fully aware of his actions:

"Lyds… we have a problem…"

**xXx**

Stiles knew Derek wouldn't stop trying to find the one responsible for the death of his sister (though he still kept wondering what made him blame Stiles). What he wasn't expecting was when he and Mal got back home after some grocery shopping to find Derek punching Peter with enough force to throw him straight across the living room and onto the dining room table.

"Peter!/Papa!" The two cried out in horror.

Stiles was horrified. He'd been so sure that they'd be safe at home. He made sure to ward the place to hell and back the moment his power was at full again. They were supposed to be safe in there. He was sure that the wards would be able to stand against insane weres, psychopathic hunters, megalomaniac druids, evil witches, even the demented darach! The wards weren't a normal barrier, not mountain ash or anything like that; there were anchored with runes, but Stiles's own will had raised them, meant to keep out anything and anyone that might intend them harm. And yet, those same wards would never consider Derek an enemy, because his own heart would never do that. It was unthinkable for him…

"I didn't kill Laura!" Peter practically roared as Noah helped him back onto his feet. "She was my niece! I don't… I don't know what the hell makes you think…"

"If not you, then who?!" Derek demanded, not attacking him again, but still not backing down.

"I don't know!" Peter snapped. "But not knowing doesn't make me guilty!"

"No, but being up and about does!" Derek hissed.

That threw everyone for a loop.

"What?! So if I'm healing, finally, after six fucking years, that means I must have killed my niece?!" It was hard to tell if Peter's fury or his hurt was chief in that moment.

"You were catatonic, no matter what anyone tried, you weren't healing!" Derek half snarled, half-sobbed. "We tried everything..."

"You Abandoned Me!" Peter cut him off, emphasizing each word. "You packed your bags and you left for the other side of the country! Leaving me in that freaking hospital! Trapped inside my own head! Alone with my pain and broken bonds! Healing cell by cell!"

"We tried everything." Derek insisted. "I called to you, screamed until my voice was hoarse. Broke your arm in an attempt to kick-start your healing, but nothing worked! In the end… we couldn't stay… we just… it hurt too much."

"You left me." Peter's tone softened but he still didn't fully back down. "You might be my family Derek, both you and Laura, but you stopped being my pack the day you left me to rot in that hospital." He exhaled. "You want to know how I'm 'up and about'? It's thanks to my pack!" He waved his hands around to signal to everyone. "They took an interest in me, even when they had no reason to do so. They gave me a reason to heal, a reason to live even after losing so much… they did not give up on me…"

Derek clearly had no words to say to that. Instead he just walked out of the house. Though he didn't go far. Collapsing just outside the back-door, by the porch steps. Stiles hesitated for all of two seconds, while Noah led Peter to a couch and Malia rush to them with wipes in hand; Peter raised his head to see Stiles and cocked his head to a side, as if giving silent permission. That was all Stiles needed and he went after Derek.

He saw the were on the steps, looking so lost Stiles's heart ached. He wished so much to be able to comfort him somehow… but Derek didn't know him. So Stiles just dropped on the other side of the steps, leaving about half a yard of space. Neither of them said a word for the longest time, until Derek pulled out his phone and fiddled with it a little; Stiles understood when a recording began playing: a voicemail:

"Der…? There's something really, really wrong in this town. I spoke to our mother's Emissary. He's retired now, but he agreed to see me. He said that someone has taken the power from the Nemeton for some nefarious purpose. He tried to call for the protection from our line, and then that was cut from him as well. He asked for my help. Told me where to go to find the right scent to track. So that's what I'm doing. I found the scent earlier today. They've been at the Nemeton and the ruins of the house. Two people. I'm going after them tonight. You stay safe Der, I'll be back with you soon."

A beep announced the end of the recording. Derek still said nothing, just put the phone away, his eyes fixed on the trees behind Stiles's house.

"That's why you thought we killed her…" Stiles murmured in quiet understanding.

"That was the last thing I heard from Laura." Derek admitted quietly. "I didn't even answer the phone! I was in the shower, didn't even hear it over the sound of the water. Then I was running late for my job. I worked in a security firm, the late shift… My boss knew about my true nature, it was convenient. I didn't even know she called at all until I got off my shift in the morning. Was about to call her back and then… pain, there was nothing but pain. So bad I almost blacked out."

"You felt the pack-bond breaking when she died…" Stiles realized.

"I did." Derek nodded grimly. "She was all I had left… my alpha, my sister…"

Stiles bit his tongue so as not to bring up Peter again. That was an entirely different matter.

"And you thought we were responsible because the last thing your sister did was go looking for us." Stiles nodded in understanding. "There's one thing I don't get though. Why did she attack us exactly? I mean, it's one thing to be distrustful, even confrontational, but she attacked us, for no reason! She didn't even ask any questions."

"Laura wouldn't do that." Derek shook his head. "And who's us?"

"A friend and I." Stiles answered vaguely, not wanting to mention anyone else from the pack unless it was absolutely necessary. "I don't know what to tell you. If I had to guess I'd say she was completely feral. It was the afternoon but it was still light out, and she came after us. On the school parking lot! As a fully-shifted wolf! Do you have any idea what might have happened if anyone not in the known had seen her?!"

"That doesn't sound like Laura at all… I need to go talk to Deaton."

And there it was, the moment when he had to make up his mind. Either Stiles held onto all his secrets, let Derek go, let him risk his life with the bastard of a pseudo-Druid… it was never really a choice in the end.

"Don't." Stiles's hand shot out to hold Derek's wrist instantly. "I… I know this is going to sound absolutely nuts, and I don't actually have a way to prove it. Not right now, not… yet. But I don't think you can trust Deaton. I mean, your sister went to see him, and next we know, she's trying to kill me and my friends, and then, after we got away, she ended up doing selene-knows-what-else, only to die before sunrise! If you suspect me because I was one of the last people to see her, you should also suspect that so-called druid. And I'm not sure you should be risking yourself."

"What?! You think Deaton killed her? He was my mother's emissary!"

"Was he? Then why didn't he help you at all since the fire? What's more, why didn't he tell you about Peter? He woke up months ago, we tried everything to get in touch with you, and I mean we as in, the people at the hospital, my dad, me… and there was nothing. If he's so connected to your family why didn't he step in? Even if he didn't come to us he could have at least called you, or your sister. Let you know your uncle was awake. But he didn't. And he cannot not have known, the whole town knew when Peter woke up!"

"I don't understand…"

"You cannot trust Deaton, Derek. For your own sake."

Stiles had no idea if Derek would even believe him, especially since, like he said, he'd no way to prove it. And yet when Derek sat back down he knew they were on the right path. He still wasn't expecting the next words to come from the young were's mouth:

"Is it my fault?" That part wasn't the surprise, no, that part was just par for the course, as always, Derek blaming himself for things outside his control, his next words though: "I should have stopped her from coming back here, like I did back in January."

Stiles's head moved so fast to the side he almost got whiplash.

"Maybe things would have been better if I did let her come back when she first planned to." The older looking man went on, not even looking at Stiles. "She wanted to come, said she was already late for the hospital visit, but things were so hectic back in November… maybe if she had come back then she'd have seen Peter, seen you. And… whatever happened wouldn't have."

"Why did you stop her?" Stiles couldn't help but ask him, very quietly, as if afraid that any louder would break some sort of spell.

"I… I don't know?" Even he didn't believe that. "I was having dreams, awful dreams. I was so convinced she would die if she came back… and I was right. Only I was also wrong because it had nothing to do with Uncle Peter and… I just don't know what to do."

Stiles said nothing, mind flying every which way as he tried to process what the were just said. What were the chances? Did Derek's nightmares mean anything or were they just a completely unrelated phenomenon that he was connecting because, as was usual for the sourwolf, he was feeling guilty despite there being no reason for it? Stiles could have screamed right then because, in the end, he didn't know what to do either.

He was so sure they were doing things right: their pack was beginning to take shape, even if they weren't wolves, that didn't matter. Peter was awake, and sane, Malia was alright and with them, Scott was healthy (and who cared if he was ignoring Stiles again? He'd long since accepted the loss of his once brother, it no longer hurt as much as it once did), his dad knew the truth and still loved him, Deaton was still around (but there was nothing he could do to draw any more power, he and probably Lydia would deal with him in due time); and yet, he… they hadn't planned for the Argents returning as they did, they should have been able to predict Kate's actions, and Gerard's, and Stiles had no idea how they were supposed to deal with the psychopathic bastard (much as Stiles might want to just go ahead and kill him, he knew the old-man all too well to believe it'd be that easy). All he could do was hope that things would resolve themselves, or he'd find a way to solve them… somehow.

**xXx**

Stiles knew he'd been distracted. In between Derek (who was sleeping on the pull-out couch in his dad's seldom used office, since Noah refused to let him go after the younger wolf admitted not to have anywhere to go… and because they all knew he would have ended staying in the charred ruins of the house, punishing himself for things beyond his power), Gerard Argent's continued insistence on finding other 'people' to blame for his daughter's death (the old bastard even tried claiming that she had been lured to the Stilinski house to be murdered but, thankfully, the people of Beacon Hills knew both the Sheriff and his son and held them in too high esteem to believe the bastard's tales), Deaton's continued silence (really, after how often he tried to get the power when Stiles and Lydia first traveled back, his lack of action implied he was planning something, something big, that couldn't be good) and trying to secure their pack (though neither of them had the slightest idea how they would manage that in the long run, not without an alpha). Being distracted wasn't exactly unexpected. It still caught him completely by surprise when he arrived for lunch one Monday and found someone new sitting at the 'pack's' usual table.

"He… llo?" Stiles somehow managed to make a single word sound like both a statement and a question at the same time (something he probably picked up from Derek, the man always seemed to forget question marks, periods and any other punctuation marks).

"I told Issac he could sit with us from now on." Jackson explained with a shrug. "Since he's family now and all."

It was Lydia who caught him up during their free period, right after lunch. It seemed that Matt Daehler had had some kind of mental breakdown, and with no kanima for him to use, he sought vengeance himself. Probably knowing he wouldn't be able to get more than one, he chose to go directly after the one he saw as the chief responsible for all his pain and suffering: Mr. Lahey, the former swimming coach. No one knew exactly what happened, but the police arrived to find both unconscious and badly injured, Matt dying hours later in the hospital, from a bad reaction to one of the drugs used (the nurses believed that he might have taken something before going after Mr. Lahey, some kind of drug, and no one at the hospital had known…). Mr. Lahey hadn't had more than a few bruises really. However, the arrival of the police brought unexpected results, as one of the deputies had gone into the house to make sure no one else had been injured, only to find Issac inside the old fridge.

From there everything happened very fast. Mostly because Jackson convinced his father to get involved. Mr. Lahey was in jail for abuse to a minor, as well as assault, and there were rumors of possibly adding attempted manslaughter or something along those lines (according to the nurses, if Issac hadn't been found when he was, he might have died). And it hadn't stopped there, at Jackson's insistence the Whittemore's would be fostering Issac until his majority. Stiles was absolutely speechless by the end of it all:

"That was… that's…" He had no words.

Lydia laughed, light and airy, the kind of laughter Stiles hadn't heard in longer than he could properly remember (he'd loved that laughter once, had dreamed of being the reason for it, back when he still believed Lydia to be his soulmate and had a ten-year-plan to make her fall for him).

"That's Jackson." Lydia said simply.

And it wasn't even just Jackson. Stiles had seen it during lunch, the way Erica teased the boy, gently, knowing instinctively he wasn't yet ready for more, the way Boyd kept a watchful eye, making sure others wouldn't bother them, the way Malia smiled at him and did her best to coax him into chatting with them.

"We have an awesome pack." Stiles stated, smiling wide.

"Yeah, we do." Lydia agreed wholeheartedly. "All we're missing is our alpha."

Yeah… and they still had no idea how they were going to get him.

**xXx**

Stiles knew, from the moment Gerard arrived to town that he was going to be trouble. He also knew better than to trust the Argents. Even Allison, while a part of Stiles might still hurt at the huntress's death, at the knowledge that she had been trying to help him and that cost her her life. He also never forgot that Allison could be against them as easily as she was on their side. She was the one who'd captured Boyd and Erica, riddled their bodies with her arrows, handed them over to her grandfather to be tortured for days… then she stabbed Issac with her knives, repeatedly. And there was no way of telling what else might have happened if everything else with Gerard and his attempt at getting the bite hadn't gone down right when it did.

Issac finding out the truth after overhearing a phone conversation between Jackson and Lydia (because apparently the walls in the Whittemore house weren't quite as thick as they thought they were) was unexpected. But at least the 'truth' was only regarding the supernatural, and not the time travel. And while they weren't planning for it to happen exactly when it did, it wasn't like they were expecting to keep the secret forever. It wouldn't have been right, that much Stiles and Lydia had learned in their past. Jackson was even aiming for having Danny join them (it was what the phone conversation was about, in fact), but agreed to wait until the mess with the Argents was past so as not to put the other boy in undue danger.

Of course, with Issac knowing the truth it was only right for Erica and Boyd to know as well. Boyd promised to keep the secret and, as it turned out, he'd noticed a few things already. Erica was very excited about the whole thing, about being a part of it all, even if she was only human. What surprised everyone, especially Stiles himself, was when Erica continued calling him Batman rather than giving him a new nickname, a magical one. In the end it was Issac who asked her to explain why:

"Remember the Batman Begins movie we watched a few weeks ago?" Erica asked in turn.

Everyone nodded (they were all interested in the answer, and thus turned their full attention to her the moment Issac asked the question).

"Well, there Bruce does this whole thing, acting like a playboy, and a fool, so no one will know that he's Batman, right?" Erica was grinning as she explained her line of thought. "Well, that's exactly Stiles! He acts all happy-go-lucky, all oblivious and… and human! When he's not, he's a superhero! Only he pretends to be human so no one will suspect the truth. He's Batman!"

That speech left everyone absolutely speechless, or at least everyone except Stiles, who pretty much jumped on Erica, hugging her tight:

"You're awesome Catwoman!" The mage cried out brightly.

He loved his pack so much… they were all so good, so accepting. Even without being wolves (though Stiles knew that, given the chance, most of them would take the bite), they were pack, they were a family, by choice, and that was so much more important than any blood…

So, the pack finding out the truth (or most of it at least) might have been unexpected, but they dealt with it. A part of Stiles hoped they wouldn't have any more 'unexpected developments'. Not when they still had other things, other people, to deal with.

Which might explain why he really wasn't prepared (mentally or in any other way) when, one Friday evening, Peter came out of the preserve and straight into the Stilinski backyard (there was a fence, but it was low enough for were to jump easily over it). The truly worrying part was that over one shoulder he'd an unconscious Noah, and cradled against his hip was Malia in full-coyote shift, whining pitifully. Stiles had not worried when returning from his weekly lunch with Lydia (only the two of them, it was their private time) and finding the house empty. Friday evenings were for family and Noah had taken to joining Peter and Malia in their stroll through the preserve before returning home to a dinner cooked by Stiles, wanting to be as involved as he could with every part of the lives of those he held dear (Malia was his daughter, almost as much as Peter's and Peter… Stiles didn't know, but he hadn't seen his dad be as close to anyone since the death of his mom, not even when he and Scott had been trying to get their parents together; and Stiles just loved cooking when it was for pack).

Stiles didn't even stop to think about it as he practically dived out of his window, using his magic instinctively to land on one knee on the backyard without injuring himself.

"What happened?!" He asked, absolutely worried.

"Victoria Argent happened." Peter practically snarled.

Stiles froze, just for a moment, but still. He didn't understand! Scott was dating Allison, yes, but he wasn't a werewolf! He didn't even have anything to do with the pack! So why did Victoria attack? Of course, the answer came almost faster than the question. It was Gerard, the freaking bastard was doing his best to ruin their lives, again. Cursing at himself for not even thinking to prevent something like that from happening, Stiles rushed to the shielded part of his little 'herb garden'. He knew exactly the kind of wolfsbane the Argents favored. So he took a bit of that and began working on the best way to help Malia and Peter both. Thankfully, as Peter explained, Noah had just been knocked out, he'd have a headache upon awakening but a bit of ibuprofen would be enough for that.

Stiles was so completely focused on the groaning Malia and slowly awakening Noah he didn't pay that much attention to Peter after the were assured him he was alright and aside from a slight graze to his upper left arm (which didn't even need to be treated because the bullet hadn't penetrated anything and thanks to wolf-healing was already half-healed by the time Peter got back to the house) he was just fine; that was probably how he managed to completely miss the traces of blood on the side of his mouth…

Stiles spent most of Saturday and Sunday enchanting several objects to help protect his family. Lydia was a witch and a banshee, which allowed her to be quite safe. But, Stiles decided, he'd been remiss with regards to everyone else. Since it needed to be something that allowed for skin contact, and something that wouldn't be taken off… in the end he went with enchanted jewelry, sort-of. He made medallions out of a mix of silver and iron. And just that took a fair bit of magic, because those two metals couldn't really be blended by any remotely natural means, only by magic. But Stiles needed the protective and enduring properties of iron, and the connection to the moon that the silver had (even if most of them weren't wolves). Then he engraved each medallion with the two symbols that connected their pack: the Hale triskele on one side and the Irish triquetra on the other. He used magic in every step of the process, from the blending of the two metals to the delicate carvings, all the while focusing on thoughts of love, family, protection… When learning what he was doing Peter offered him unused pieces of tanned leather from the Hale family vault.

One of his brothers had been in the business and chose to save the very best piece of leather he ever worked, intending to one day turn it into a gift for his wife. He never got the chance, but Peter decided he'd agree that protecting the pack was a good reason for using that leather. He and Stiles also knew that the feelings Robert had had while working on the leather would only help. So Peter cut strips from it and made it into braids (as they'd be more resistant than a single strip). Some long, some short. Each member of the pact would be given a choice of length so they might then wear the medallion either around their neck, wrist, or anything else, as long as it might be in direct contact to skin.

A quick message sent early Monday morning ensured that they all would be at the corner of the school parking-lot by the time he arrived. He gave his dad, Peter and Malia their medallions during breakfast, extracting promises from each of them to never take them off (they'd been spelled so no one but them would be able to take them off, and only if it was of their own free will, no coercion and no witchcraft involved).

Everyone loved them. Though from all Lydia was the only one to understand the enormity of what Stiles had done. Not just when it came to how strong the medallions were, or the mix of metal, but the fact that enchanted jewelry of any kind, particularly one that had more than one or two spells, usually required time. A lot of time. From weeks, to a month, perhaps even longer. And Stiles had done ten of them in just two days. And they still didn't know about the mercury-inlaid triquetra tattoo on the back of his shoulder, opposite from the mountain-ash-inlaid triskele, both because he liked the symmetry and because, just like the mountain-ash helped when dealing with weres, the mercury was meant to help with magic (of course the mercury had been heavily enchanted to ensure it wouldn't slowly poison him or anything, it was a most magical metal, very malleable, though most magic-users had a hard time putting it to use for the exact same reason… which was probably why it was perfect for Stiles).

Stiles got yet another surprise when Lydia pulled him into an out-of-the-way nook right as the first-bell rang.

"Lyd…" He began, confused.

"Victoria Argent is dead." Lydia dropped the bomb straight out.

"Wha… what?!" Stiles had definitely not seen that one coming, regardless of what might have happened in the past. "How…? Why?! How do you even know?"

"The burial was yesterday and mom decided we should go since, well, the Argents are 'important members of the community', and it would be 'unseemly and impolite' for us not to present our condolences." The air-quotes were extremely clear. "How, suicide. And the why, that's what I'm asking you."

"She tried to kill dad, Peter and Malia on Friday evening, while they were hiking through the preserve, as they do every week." Stiles nodded. "Peter didn't tell me he bit her, but it wouldn't surprise me, considering both my dad and sis ended unconscious, and with Peter holding them… he would have used any means to protect himself and them."

"I would never begrudge him, or you, that." Lydia nodded calmly. "But biting or not, the truth remains that Peter is not an alpha. Aside from the chance of the bite getting infected if not treated promptly, there's nothing it could have done to her…"

They both reached the same conclusion at the same time.

"Son of a bitch." Stiles cursed, at the same time Lydia did a bit of the same, except in Latin.

"Mr Stilinski, Ms. Martin, the second bell just rang." A low, grandfatherly voice just announced.

It took every ounce of will, every trick learned while training his magic, for Stiles to not spin around and throw his strongest magical attack at the bastard that called himself a principal. Thankfully Lydia was quick enough to notice how thin and strained his control was and took control of the situation, taking hold of Stiles's arm and pushing at him, as she inserted herself in between both males swiftly.

"Of course, we'll be going to class right now Mr. Argent." Lydia nodded, carefully not meeting the old man's eyes (not wanting him to see the darkness and power in them).

There was no doubt in their minds that the man knew at least Stiles was connected to the weres. It was no secret that Malia was his adopted sister, or that Peter had moved into the Stilinski home after leaving the hospital. He might even suspect that Derek was staying there too, but they just weren't ready to move against the man, not yet. Not until they were sure that doing so wouldn't kick-start a war against the hunter community as a whole. And yet, the fact that the man might have murdered his own daughter-in-law for no reason except the chance of using her death to move against them… they always knew he was insane, but that was just too much.

"We need to make a plan." Lydia hissed at Stiles right as they reached the classroom door.

"We need to make a lot of plans." Stiles corrected softly. "Something tells me we're about to run out of time."

Which was ironic all things considered, but Lydia knew Stiles was right. They'd been caught completely off-guard, more than once already, it couldn't be allowed to happen again.

**xXx**

The lacrosse final had everyone at the high-school going insane. Even Stiles would admit to be having more fun than the first time around. It wasn't just that Jackson convinced him to join the team, or that he had a good-enough physical condition this time around to be a first-liner, not even that he was Jackson's second and the one who planned all their plays. He and Jackson were really good at working together, because the blonde had what it took to get the rest of the players to follow his orders, and to motivate them, while Stiles had the mind of a tactician, and was able to use it not just in battle, but also in something as simple as a high-school game. Scott was part of the team too, he even played a little most games; but while being cured of his asthma being he could play without danger, he didn't have the connection and the understanding of the rest of the team, of their captain and tactician to follow them the way others like Danny, Issac, Connor and most of the others, even Greenburg (and where he failed, it was mostly due to his own lack of coordination and endurance, rather than anything else).

"This is insane." Lydia practically spat as he watched everyone arriving to watch the game.

Of course she was there. She was the girlfriend to the team-captain and best-friend of the 2nd, she couldn't not be there. Malia was with her as, while she was interested in playing the game, there were no girls in the team and she wasn't about to ask Principal Argent for permission (maybe once they got rid of the bastard and someone else took the position).

"This is high-school lacrosse, and the first time the Cyclones have made the finals since… well, probably forever." Stiles deadpanned. "I don't remember exactly, I'm sure Finstock went into it during the last training session, but to be honest I wasn't paying that much attention."

"And he didn't mind?" Malia arched a brow.

"As long as I create awesome plays that allow him to win the championship no, he doesn't mind at all." Stiles answered with a smirk.

"Erica and Boyd are late." Lydia commented.

Noah and Peter were already on the bleachers, saving the girls a couple of seats. But Erica and Boyd weren't there yet.

Stiles closed his eyes briefly, checking on the pack-bonds, just lightly, superficially, not enough to be nosy, but just to make sure they were alright.

"There's nothing wrong with them." He announced out-loud.

"They probably just lost track of time making out or something." Malia snickered.

Stiles didn't get a chance to say anything else because Finstock was calling for him. It was time for his 'Independence Day' speech and for the game to begin.

They won. The part that left Stiles satisfied was that this time it was a well-planned victory, rather than a completely accidental one. He even managed to score once! Jackson passing the ball at him instead of taking a shot, even though he was free. Stiles took the opportunity on offer for what it was though and made the best shot he could. It was his only in the game, and barely his third in the whole season, but he wasn't in the team because he was a scorer, but because he was a tactician. He could go the whole season without playing as long as he made the plans and warmed-up with everyone else and coach would be happy.

There was a lot of cheering and congratulations as the trophy was handed to the captain, Jackson immediately pulled Stiles, making sure they were both holding the trophy up as everyone around them cheered as loud as they could. It was the perfect moment.

Coach invited them all to go out for burgers or pizza, or something; but truth was that most of the players had families that wanted to celebrate with them, and no one really wanted to spend the next two hours, or more, listening to more of Finstocks crazy speeches. He might be a good man, but still a bit too insane (and batshit crazy) for most of them.

Jackson, Issac and Stiles were the last to get showered and out of the lockers, backpacks in hand. They were planning on all going for some burgers and fries. The Whittemores weren't in town, having some business dinner in Sacramento, Peter insisted on inviting, so they'd all be going together. They'd just stepped onto the parking lot when the shock hit Stiles, like lightning or… or like being tased… he lost his footing and would have ended smacked-dab against the concrete if Peter had not reacted as fast as he did, catching the teenager half down.

"Stiles, what's wrong?!" Malia asked, very worried.

"Erica… and Boyd… they're hurting…" Stiles groaned as he forced his mind into order, pushing the pain into a corner in order to gather his wits. "Fucking bastard… I'm going to kill him!"

"What… who?!" Issac, Jackson and Malia were all clearly baffled.

"Gerard…" Stiles practically snarled.

He was so furious he didn't even think, he just reached out with his magic and from one second to the next, he was gone.

"Shit!" Several called at the same time.

"Where's my son?!" Noah demanded, furious.

"Wherever Erica and Boyd are." Lydia answered grimly.

"And where is that?" Peter demanded through gritted teeth.

"If I had to guess…" And Lydia really hated guessing. "The Argent place."

They all got on the move immediately, climbing onto the cars and rushing out, Jackson and Lydia on the lead as she was the only one who actually knew where the Argents lived.

Stiles was so furious his magic answered without him having to even think too hard. It was how he ended appearing at the Argents' front door where, with a wave of his hand the door slammed open hard enough that the pieces of decorated crystal on it shattered.

"Hey!" A male voice called. "What the hell is going on?!"

The moment Stiles laid eyes on Gerard Argent his magic reacted again and the old man went flying across the dining room until he slammed against the far wall, the pictures hanging on both sides of him falling by the force of the impact.

"Who are you and why are you attacking us?!" Chris Argent demanded, gun in hand.

Stiles coked his head to a side, not saying a word as the gun went hot, so hot that Argent was forced to drop it eventually.

"Where are they?" He finally asked.

"Who?!" Chris demanded, it was obvious a part of him wanted to reach for another weapon, but what had already happened with the gun made him hesitate.

"Erica and Boyd, where are they?" Stiles pressed. "I know you have them."

"Why would I…?" Chris began, clearly flabbergasted.

"Not you, him." Stiles hissed the last words, eyes straying to the unconscious old-man just for a second. "Don't bother lying to me Argent, I know exactly what you do, what you are. I know you have my friends…"

"We don't hurt humans…" Chris began.

Stiles silently reminded himself that Chris was not his enemy, was probably the only decent Argent on the US (certainly the only to always follow the code). Also, they were back to a time where Chris wasn't yet aware of the crimes his father and sister had committed, all the ways they both had perverted the code, the innocents they'd hurt and killed…

So Stiles ignored him. He still remembered the layout of the house from the last time he was a 'guest' there, didn't matter if it was in another lifetime. So he turned and went straight for the door leading into the basement, ignoring Chris's sputtering, calls and demands. The hunter followed him, though by the time he got halfway down the stairs Stiles was already all the way down, his magic acting instinctively to release Erica and Boyd from their bonds. Stiles turned to look at Chris over his shoulder and saw the man looking absolutely flabbergasted:

"I… I didn't know about any of this…" Chris murmured, sounding absolutely gutted.

"Just like you didn't know that your wife tried to kill my father, my sister, and Uncle Peter less than a month ago?" Stiles demanded.

"That monster you call an uncle bit my wife!" Chris snapped, slowly recovering some of his righteous anger.

"So what?!" Stiles retorted, turning back to him, after having made sure that Erica and Boyd were alive and putting his magic to work on healing them as much and as fast as possible. "Peter's a beta, it's not like his bite did anything to her!"

"But… but… she killed herself…" The man sounded suddenly so lost.

"Did she?" Stiles challenged, teeth bared. "Did she talk to you about it? Did you see her? Or was that the story your father told you to get you and possibly even your daughter to turn on innocent wolves who barely managed to survive when your sister tried to kill them?!"

"Sister… what…?!"

"Kate tried to kill us all a few months ago, that's no secret. It's also no secret that she was behind the Hale fire. That fire killed eight people, several of them children! The Hale pack had done nothing to deserve such an attack! And then your wife tried the same against my family. Why? Because they're shifters. Well, guess what, the days of you hunters getting away with killing innocents just because they're not fully human are over. You come after my family, my pack again, and I will destroy you. Every single one of you."

The moment Stiles heard Gerard's yell coming from above, Stiles reacted, again, on instinct, as he took hold of both Erika and Boyd and teleported all three of them out of that basement. He landed in a small park just a few blocks away from the house, at about the same time as a certain Porsche took the curve, fast, only to stop two seconds later and turn back, Lydia having probably tracked Stiles's magic. She was just jumping out of the car when the rest of their mismatched pack arrived on Stiles's own jeep and Lydia's blue Prius.

Stiles sat on his heels, panting, so much magic, in such a short period of time… he might be extremely powerful, but his younger body wasn't used to that sort of exertion. Also, as he realized while healing Erica and Boyd, their medallions had been slowly drawing on his power for a while, it was probably the only reason why they were still alive, despite having been subjected to Gerard's 'tender' mercies.

"Stiles!" Lydia cried out as she went to kneel beside him.

"I am… we will be alright." Stiles corrected himself halfway through the statement, then he turned more serious. "We're all sleeping at home, my home, until this matter is resolved."

Lydia knew exactly what it meant: 'until Gerard Argent is dead'; she had no doubt Stiles would be going after him as soon as he recovered from that night. Probably before the weekend was over. And she'd be right there with him.

**xXx**

Stiles slept through the night, and most of the morning. Thankfully his dad had gotten up in time to help make some brunch for everyone; and they all made sure to leave something for Stiles, which made him very happy. The pack spent the whole day together, camped out on a bunch of blankets and pillows in the middle of the living-room, on a Batman marathon (they watched all three of the Nolan movies, Stiles's and Erica's favorite version of the superhero).

In the evening Stiles took charge of the kitchen, throwing things together in a simple but very tasty stir-fry everyone loved. Boyd surprised everyone by preparing chocolate brownies, his grandma had taught him.

The plan was to wait for the next day before going after Gerard Argent, and any hunters he might be able to command. Then again, Stiles should have remembered that plans rarely went as expected when they were involved… They were all arguing about what movie they should put in, having finished dinner (Issac and Malia were just finishing drying the dishes); Stiles turned to offer his own suggestion (later on he'd be unable to remember what it had been, exactly), when a sudden, sharp pain went through his whole body, he dropped to one knee before he could stop himself, a half-cry escaping his lips.

"Stiles!" Everyone rushed to his side instantly.

"Derek…" Stiles gasped, holding onto his left arm with his right tightly. "Fucking Gerard!"

"What… what do we do?" Issac asked, terrified.

He'd seen the condition Erica and Boyd were in after being taken by the old Argent, they all had. Erica herself was shaking in fright just at hearing him mentioned, while Boyd stood protectively behind her, a hand on her shoulder.

"Map…" Stiles forced the words through clenched teeth. "Need… map…"

Noah was on the move right away, pulling out the biggest, most detailed map they had from an old desk in a corner of the room and spreading it out on the recently emptied dinning room table (really, before the pack they hadn't used the dining room at all, having what meals they actually took in the house on the small island in the kitchen).

"Lyds…" Stiles murmured.

She understood what he needed without any explanation and pulled out the delicate knife, completely made of bleached white bone, with a delicate lily engraved on the handle and no guard (a birthday present from Stiles, and perfect for magic). Stiles took it and used it to make a small cut on his hand, letting just a few drops of blood fall from it and straight onto the map. He didn't even need any spells, only his thoughts, his will, there was a flash of light only those magically inclined could actually see and the blood pulled together and began moving across the map (like mercury) before gathering together on a specific location: a warehouse in the industrial area of Beacon Hills, on its very edge in fact, it was practically in the preserve itself.

"He's there." Stiles announced.

The cut on his hand healed without him even noticing. Peter approached in an attempt to take the pain from him, any pain he might be feeling but Stiles shook his head, he knew there was no point, it would achieve nothing. It wasn't his pain, after all.

As it became clear that the time had come to fight everyone split up to get ready. Noah pulled out his bullet-proof vest along with a couple of spares that (not) coincidentally fit Peter and Malia. He hated the idea of taking his daughter, any of the children really, into a fight, a war, against hunters who clearly had no qualms about hurting innocents, but at the same time knew there was nothing he could do about it, not when they were the best qualified to deal with the problem. Didn't mean he was going to stay behind though.

They decided to take Jackson's and Stiles's cars as they were the fastest (Stiles had long since made sure to boost his jeep with magic, for both speed and protection). Jackson and the sheriff would be driving, though Jackson was given strict instructions about staying with the vehicles. He wasn't a supernatural creature but human and couldn't be expected to fight hunters. Lydia had pulled her long dark-leather jacket from her car, spelled to act almost like body-armor, with several pockets, both obvious and not so much, spelled to connect with caches Lydia keeps on her room of various potions (from liquid fire and explosives, to various poisons, paralytics, etc.), that's her real arsenal. Stiles for his part donned his own black-leather jacket. Much as he might love his red hoodie, and all the jokes that came with it, the jacket was what he wore when he was actually serious. It had the same spells as Lydia's own, both the protective, and the access to caches, only his were mostly of weapons, and some herbs.

Lydia approached Stiles as they waited for the others to be ready. Malia didn't want the vest, until both fathers agreed it was the only way they were letting her go with them. Also, Noah had a rifle and a couple of handguns for himself, and a handgun which he handed to Stiles, all with ammo spelled to get through any kind of protection the hunters might have.

"Since when have you been bonded to Derek?" Lydia asked bluntly, though quiet enough not to be heard by Peter (she also raised a slight privacy spell before saying a word).

"I… wha…? I don't…" Stiles sputtered briefly before taking a deep breath, knowing it was pointless to try and lie to Lydia. "I don't know. I first noticed it the day he fought Peter, when they argued about Laura's death. Afterwards… we talked on the back porch and I kept feeling this tugging. I wasn't sure… no, I didn't want to be sure because… I mean, really, my life is insane enough already, I don't need this above everything else!"

"I don't think you're getting a choice in this Stiles." Lydia pointed out with a small smile.

"What else is new?" Stiles snarked with no little amount of sarcasm.

Thankfully he was saved from having to continue that conversation by the arrival of everyone else. Bulletproof vests under jackets and guns ready. Peter had no guns, but he didn't need them either (he also claimed not to need the vest but Noah threatened to sedate him and leave him behind while they went after Derek if he didn't wear it, and Peter knew better than to try him). Issac, Erica and Boyd promised to stay inside the house, and call if they saw or heard anything suspicious (though Stiles and Lydia were sure the wards should protect them from pretty much anything short of the end of the world).

It took no time for them all to get to the warehouse. Stiles was getting ready to use magic to call the hunters' attention when his dad pulled out a couple of smoke bombs. Not quite the quality of the smoke grenades used by the force, but certainly cheaper, and less easy to track. He handed them over to Peter, who used his were strength to throw them through a high window.

"Save your magic for when you really need it son." Noah said with a small smile. "And let us help. That's what we're here for."

Stiles nodded. Grateful. They all heard the big metal curtains on the opposite side of the warehouse open and people rushing out. Took it as a signal to slip into the warehouse through the smaller backdoor they'd parked near.

"If they come around, make sure you're not seen." Noah warned Jackson before handing him a taser for his own protection.

Not as good as a gun, but as he couldn't know if the teenager had any knowledge of guns, he wasn't about to hand one to him. Jackson was thankful for the means to protect himself, just in case and nodded.

Inside Derek was hanging from the rafts, chains around the length of his arms, so high his toes were barely grazing the ground. If he were to stay like that much longer there was no doubt his arms would dislocate, also, he was already having trouble breathing.

"We need to find a way to get him down…" Noah began, trying to remain objective.

"Peter, catch him." Stiles ordered, before using his magic to levitate just a bit and wrap a hand around the chain which turned to dust under his hand.

Peter moved just in time, catching his nephew before he could touch the ground, then laying him down on the floor.

"He was shot." Stiles reminded everyone as he dropped to his knees on Derek's side.

In seconds he pulled some wolfsbane from one of the spelled pockets of his jacket. He didn't even need a lighter, as his magic was enough. The pain of the burnt wolfsbane was enough to wake up Derek.

"How did this even happen?" Malia demanded strongly.

"I… I was stupid…" Derek admitted as he began recovering. "Went to see Deaton." He looked at Stiles apologetically. "I didn't tell him anything about you, or about your pack. I went to ask him about Laura, if he'd seen her, what he knew… he claimed not to have seen her at all… and I know that was a lie, though it didn't register as such to my senses…"

"If he told you that he didn't see her in a certain place, or a certain day, or whatever other detail, it wouldn't technically be a lie." Stiles explained, it was the same thing he did sometimes. "It's not exactly hard, lying to werewolves, when you know what you're doing."

Kate had probably done the same thing, and Stiles really, really hated having anything in common with the bitch but it just couldn't be helped.

"I was just leaving and then… I don't know, that's pretty much the last thing I remember before waking up here, to Gerard demanding to know who my Alpha was…" Derek cut off as his arm finished healing and he was finally able to sit up. "Didn't matter how many times I told him I don't have an alpha, he wouldn't believe me."

Of course he wouldn't, because that wasn't the answer he wanted. Gerard was really bad at accepting answers he did not want. Made him wonder how a man who feared death so much, who was insane enough to want to be the very thing he hunted in order not to die, ever got involved in a life-style where death was practically guaranteed, sooner or later. Of course ego played a part. Feeling that you had power over life and death, that you were invincible… but Stiles remembered a talk with Allison, how she told him all hunters knew their lives were fragile, and short, and they were meant to ensure others lived better lives. She was so brave, even in the face of her own death, so different from Gerard and Kate both (really, choosing to live as a were-jaguar rather than accepting death? It showed that Kate was as psychotic and cowardly as her father).

"Now what?" Malia asked.

Stiles knew that they'd all be debating between going after the hunters, and taking Derek home, to safety. The choice was taken out of their hands to the sound of shooting, followed by the screeching of tires as a car took off (clearly Jackson was forced to leave). The door they had entered through began opening and Lydia reacted automatically, pulling one of her explosive potions out and throwing it. The boom, followed by screams told them she'd hit the mark. With no other way out they all turned towards the rest of the warehouse, and the open curtains on the far end. At least Derek had mostly recovered by then. He was a bit tired, and very hungry, but both would be solved as soon as they all got back home.

That plan though proved to be a tad problematic when they stepped out of the warehouse, only to find themselves face to face with hunters.

It's the last thing Stiles ever wanted. Yes, he planned going after Gerard. But his plan consisted of slipping into wherever he might be and killing the man before he ever saw Stiles coming. Many would call such a plan cowardly, but Stiles knows better than to go after a man like Gerard Argent up front, the bastard is slimy and psychotic, there's nothing he won't do, no line he won't cross. Something that is proven true right then, and in possibly the most painful manner Stiles could have ever imagined. Because, if the tense stand-off just outside the warehouse isn't bad enough in and of itself; pack vs. hunters isn't exactly surprising, and of course Stiles is standing with his pack; the part that truly hurts is seeing Scott, his once brother, standing with the hunters.

"St… Stiles…?" Scott's beyond shocked.

Stiles is incredibly shocked as well, seeing Allison there is par for the course, really, but Scott? And even if his hold on the crossbow slackened in the shock of seeing his once best friend, he's still standing there, among about a dozen hunters. Stiles thought he was ready for anything, he thought he'd already gone through any and all pain Scott could cause him… he was wrong. In that moment there's so much pain radiating from him, he's sure everyone in the pack can sense it (nevermind that the weres can smell it).

Stiles takes a moment, just a fraction of a second, to let his heart and soul cry, to mourn, again, the loss of the boy he once called his brother, once loved as dearly as if they'd been born as such. Then he locked all that away, steeled his resolve and pulled out his gun with one hand, at the same time as he felt the mercury sliding down his other arm, leaving a trail of magic that raised goosebumps on his skin.

"Well well, what have we here?" Gerard Argent says in a drawl, an undercurrent of darkness in his every word (not surprising, really). "Mr. Stilinski, it seems you've been keeping some very big secrets… and you Sheriff!"

Noah says nothing, he just holds his rifle more tightly, lining his shot.

"Ah, ah, ah." Gerard shakes his head with almost manic glee. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, my good Sheriff. Not unless you want to be responsible for the death of an innocent…"

No one says a word, but Stiles suddenly has a very bad feeling.

Which is proven right just a few seconds later when Four more hunters join them, pulling none other than Jackson with them. Jackson is cursing them all, English mixed with some French and Latin (he clearly has been learning from Lydia), but its clear he's taken a beating and one of his knees is wrenched, or worse.

It takes all of Lydia's self-control not to scream, but she knows that will only make things worse. So she holds back, though at the same time she's clenching both hands, practically vibrating in her spot, waiting for the right time to scream.

"Now, this is how it's going to go." Gerard murmurs with evident satisfaction as he raises his own gun. "You're all going to die."

"Don't you dare give up!" Jackson snarls.

It takes everyone, on both sides, completely by surprise when the taser Noah gave him earlier slips down from the sleeve of his jacket and into his hand, he then jabs it straight into one of the hunters on one side of him, while at the same time putting his whole weight on the one on the other side, taking him down.

That's all Lydia needs as she raises both hands at the same time she opens her mouth wide and screams at a pitch no human throat could reach. The two hunters behind Jackson collapse, their ears bleeding, and a few others shift their stances as they do their best to cover their ears from the noise. Noah, Peter and Stiles take that as a sign and begin shooting. Stiles himself raising both arms, as he shoots with one, while the mercury shoots from the sleeve on the other one, taking the form of projectiles that hit Allison and Scott. He doesn't want to kill them, much as he might hate hunters, he wants to believe there's still hope…

When several of the hunters decide that they no longer like the odds and try to run, Malia and Derek get in on the action, shifting into beta form and going after them. They aren't too careful, but still aren't aiming to kill. Eventually Peter drops his own hand-gun and follows.

Gerard is furious, beyond that even. It's clear he wasn't expecting that, for them to fight back. Which Stiles thinks is monumentally stupid, they killed Kate, after all.

Eventually one of the bullets hits Gerard straight on the chest. He goes down hard. To Allison's screams and Scott's cursing. Stiles made sure to hit them in such a way they wouldn't be able to keep fighting, but they're still awake and aware.

Stiles takes a look around, and then exhales when confirming that all the hunters are down for the count, and most aren't even dead! It is then that Stiles, and his whole pack, make the worst mistake anyone can make: they lower their guard.

Allison is on the ground, shaking, eyes straight on her broken bow even as she holds tightly onto her boyfriend's uninjured hand. When her grandpa told her the truth about the 'family business' she was both terrified and excited at the same time. The idea of monsters made her afraid, but at the same time she loved to think that she could fight them, that she could protect those who did not know the truth. And when grandpa told her she could invite her boyfriend things got even better. Because she could share it all with Scott! They'd be together, would fight to protect innocents. They would be heroes! And then things turned sour. She can see Derek Hale standing at the back of the group, he doesn't look like a monster, his jeans are ripped in so many places they look like they might fall into pieces at any moment, there's no shirt on him and his chest is littered with pink scars and still-healing cuts. He doesn't look like a monster, no, he looks like a man, a young, handsome man who's been terribly hurt.

Scott himself isn't shaking, but he's almost petrified with fright. He wanted so much to be a hero. It was so hard for him not to go looking for Stiles, to tell him when he passed his first week training with the Argents and Gerard told him he had a future as a hunter… Then he'd remember Stiles the night of the Winter Formal, his words, and a petty and childish desire would invade him. If Stiles could keep his secrets why couldn't Scott do the same? Of course he'd tell his best-friend eventually, and maybe Stiles might even be interested in being a hunter too. And the two of them would be together, like brothers, like they were supposed to be. Scott would have Allison, and Stiles, and all would be right with the world again. Of course, when thinking all that he never imagined a day like tonight. It was one thing to be told they were meant to hunt monsters, but the ones standing across from them were no monsters, or were they? Stiles, the Sheriff… Noah Stilinski was like another father to Scott, had been even before his old man finally left. Why would he be siding with monsters? Scott doesn't understand what's going on anymore…

Lydia's beside Jackson, seeing to his knee as best she can. Potions might be her thing, but healing really isn't. So while she can give her boyfriend something for the pain, and check his knee to make sure it's not actually broken, that's the extent of her skill on that front. Jackson understands, he's just grateful that she's alright, that him being taken didn't somehow end up with her hurt, he'd have never forgiven him for that.

Stiles is taking deep breaths, feeling the mercury return to his tattoo. He can hear Peter muttering behind him, all the reasons why they're being stupid, how they should just kill the hunters while they're still unconscious, how foolish it is to leave enemies alive… the worst is that there's a part of Stiles that believes he's right. The hunters… they may come after them all. And then there's the part that remembers Tamora Monroe, not the insane bitch that was, in many ways, the reason the world went to hell; but the woman she had been before all that. The counselor who cared so much, who just wanted to help. She, like Meredith Walker, went through terribly traumatic experiences that lead her to believe that the supernatural was at the core of all the problems, of all the evil in their town, and possibly in the world. Wouldn't it be better to show such people, people like Tamora, like Meredith, like the hunters all around the clearing, that they aren't monsters, that they aren't evil, instead of seemingly confirming all their fears?

"Stiles!" Noah snaps out suddenly.

Stiles is so completely surprised he spins around to see what the problem is, but his dad isn't looking at him, no, his eyes are fixed on something behind him… the shot rings out, so loud it makes all who hear it flinch, before he can even move again. When he finally does, it's in time to see a most shocking sight… Jackson, dropping to the ground, hands pressed to his stomach and to the bleeding wound there.

"Jackson!" Lydia screams, terrified

It's not surprising really, that's the love of her life bleeding out on the dirt. Stiles is on his knees beside him, trying to use his bare hands to apply some pressure, he's so shocked by it all that it's like he cannot think…

"Idiot, why did you do that?!" He snaps, not knowing what else to say.

"You're… you're Ly… Lydia's b-brother, ho-ow could I not?" Jackson mumbles, his face twisting in a grimace of pain.

It's one thing to use his magic to boost a were's naturally augmented healing, or for healing potions… but Stiles isn't actually a healer. He's a mage with incredible power but healing is still the hardest, most complex, most delicate form of magic. Very few people can heal a human without ending shortening their lives… and Stiles isn't one of them. And he has no healing potions good enough for a bullet to the stomach! Not on him, not even back at the house. Because they were ready for many things, but somehow they weren't ready for that.

"Monsters!" Gerard calls with manic glee. "I'll kill you all one by one!"

Stiles curses to himself. It never occurred to him to consider that, like his dad, Malia and Peter, the bastard might have been wearing a vest. He waits until Lydia is there, tearing at the lower half of the dress she's wearing over leggings and underneath her jacket to use that to put pressure on her boyfriend's wound. That gives Stiles the chance to turn his whole attention to Gerard, whose gun is already pointing straight at Stiles, as if challenging him, waiting to see who of the two is faster with their attack… only when the shot comes, it's not from Gerard, instead he's the one falling, the bullet going into his head not from the front, but from behind…

All eyes turn to the newcomer then, though Allison's the first to react:

"Dad!" She's so absolutely relieved, and at the same time extremely confused, why did her dad just kill his own father?!

"Hello Chris." Stiles says almost conversationally. "Remember what I said would happen if you came after my family, my pack, again?"

"I had no part in what happened today." Chris tries to defend himself. "What my father did was wrong, and now he's gone. And my daughter and her boyfriend… they're innocent, they don't know what they're doing."

"You dealt with your father, though only after letting him get away with too much, for too long, just like Kate." Stiles chastises. "Have you looked into what I told you regarding your wife?"

"Mom?!" Allison cries out, unable to help herself.

She has no idea what's going on. Where does Stilinski get off, talking to her dad like that? And her dad is allowing it! And now they're talking about her mom! Her mom died because of Peter Hale, because of werewolves, monsters… didn't she?

"She didn't write the suicide note." Chris nods. "I took it to an expert I know, along with notes I know she wrote. He told me it wasn't the same handwriting. I had suspected as much. I failed to notice it at first because I was so overcome by everything, but there are things Vicky always said when she called me, specific words and turns of phrase she'd use in notes, personal codes we developed among ourselves, as a form of protection. In case one of us was ever taken, or coerced or anything else. None of those were in the suicide note. Which means she didn't write it."

"There's also of course the fact that Peter Hale is not an Alpha." Stiles reminds him. "Therefore, whether he bit or not your wife is irrelevant, the bite would have done nothing to her."

"I know." Chris lowers his head, sadly.

"I don't think you're a bad man Christopher." Stiles admits calmly. "If I thought you were, you would be dead." Cold, but true. "You may not be a bad man, but you've been remiss in your duties. Because I do not believe you didn't at least suspect that there was something wrong with the way your father and sister conducted themselves, all the wolves they killed. I will not mention your wife again, because I do understand how mourning someone might blind you to details. But in your grief over losing your wife, you let your daughter be manipulated by a monster. Let her and her boyfriend both go down a path you had to know wasn't the right one. If I were any other person, if this were any other pack, all who stood against us tonight would be lying dead at our feet right now, rather than just unconscious, you do understand that, don't you?"

Doing that would have undoubtedly sparked the very war they were seeking to prevent, but Stiles won't go into that. He needs Chris to understand and do something about it. The Allison before him hasn't fallen quite as far as the one in the old timeline, she hasn't tortured or killed anyone yet, didn't fire a single shot before Stiles snapped her bow. That might be because Scott is with her, has been her support, or it might be something else entirely. But that doesn't mean she won't end that bad, or worse, Chris needs to step in before it happens.

Scott's just gaping. He knows Stiles and he aren't as close as they used to be, but that's just a phase right? Things will get better, right? Only Stiles is treating him like a complete stranger, won't even look at him. It's driving Scott crazy and yet… the way he's staring down Mr. Argent… Scott really doesn't want that look directed at him.

"I will make sure something like this never happens again." Chris promises solemnly. "I will teach them better. Both Allison and Scott."

Because Scott is his responsibility now too. Just for what happened tonight, the supernatural community will regard him as a hunter from today on. Chris has already failed his wife, and his daughter to a point, he won't fail them anymore.

"You may go, but your friends will be going straight to lock-up." Noah announces gruffly.

"On what charges?" Chris dares ask.

"Illegal possession of firearms, hunting out of season, shooting at some joggers?" Noah throws some suggestions into the air. "I don't know, I'll think of something. They probably won't get much more than a few days behind bars and a fine, but hear me when I say this Mr. Argent. The days of you hunters making yourselves judge, jury and executioners simply because you think you know best, are over. I am the sheriff of this town, which means I am the law. I have no intention of making myself jury and executioner, but I will ensure the laws are followed, by all, human and supernatural alike. If I find you, your family, or any of your friends breaking laws, have no doubt I will be coming after you. And 'not being human' is not a good excuse for committing a crime, on anyone at all!"

"What if we're hunting an Omega threatening humans?" Chris demands.

"I think we both know what is and isn't a good reason to act." Noah rolls his eye. "Like how I wouldn't shoot a guy simply for being a jackass, though I certainly would if that same person threatened an innocent life!"

Stiles could laugh right then, he would if the moment weren't so tense (from the corner of his eye he can see Peter smirking).

Chris says nothing more, he just helps Scott and Allison to their feet and guides them away.

"We need to get an ambulance!" Malia reminds everyone abruptly.

Noah's pulling out his cellphone, even as Derek drops beside Jackson, on the other side from Lydia. He grimaces when seeing how bad it is.

"He won't make it." Peter murmurs, the look on his nephew confirming what he suspected.

He can hear the boy's heart slowing down, he's losing too much blood, too fast. Even if the ambulance were already on its way, they won't make it, Jackson won't make it…

"Stiles, what do you know about the Acclamation?" Peter asks abruptly.

"Acclamation, like a voice vote, or cheering?" Stiles asks in turn. "Or like the Papal elections?"

Yes, because Stiles can always be counted on to know all sorts of random, useless trivia.

"A bit of all, I suppose." Peter shrugs. "Most alphas get their power either by inheriting it, or by taking it, when they kill another alpha. It is said that there is another way to become an alpha. One that is decided not by the alpha wolf, but by their pack. It is said that a pack can elevate one of their own into alpha by believing they already are one hard enough that… well, the power is granted. Some even say those are True Alphas, because they earned the power, because they were elevated into the rank, rather than just getting it or killing for it."

"True Alphas…?" Stiles has no idea what to say about that.

For so long Stiles has believed the whole 'true alpha' shtick to be nothing more than bullshit. And a part of his brain whispers it might still be though… it might also be true. And he would rather believe that. He'd rather believe that it's true, that Jackson still has a chance, than give up entirely. And isn't his magic all about belief?

"So you expect us to elevate you?" Lydia asked, an undertone of desperation in her voice as she speaks through clenched teeth.

Stiles's eyes widen in alarm as he understands what's going on… Lydia's holding back a scream… that's not good!

"I think we all know who's meant to be alpha." Peter says in a drawl, a most provocative smirk adorning his face.

Yes, and even Peter knows it's not him.

"Derek…" Stiles murmurs quietly, so very quietly, as he turns toward the younger wolf.

Derek turns his head toward him slowly. It's clear he's heard Peter's and Stiles's conversation.

"I need to know if you want this, if you're willing to do it." Stiles explains succinctly and to the point. "If that's not what you want, we won't press…"

"I wasn't born to be an Alpha…" Derek tries his best to explain his fears.

"Doesn't mean you cannot do it." Stiles replies calmly. "The question here is, do you want to?"

Derek thinks it over for a few seconds longer, his eyes straying towards Jackson. He's clearly going into shock already, and while he can hear the ambulance in the distance, paramedics won't be enough and they won't make it to the hospital in time.

"Yes." Derek announces abruptly. "I'll do it."

It's… even those present would have had a hard time explaining afterwards exactly what happens in that moment. Stiles has no idea what to do. It's not like there are any spells to make an alpha (or are there?). Then again, half the time he doesn't know what he's doing anyway! In the end, he does nothing, or at least he doesn't think so. The moment the last word passes Derek's lips something happens. Like some kind of invisible breeze, the ground beneath them seems to shudder, just for a moment; Stiles can feel the exact moment when the power rushes through Derek before settling at his core, though its hard (impossible) to tell where it comes from exactly. Derek closes his flashing-blue eyes tight for several seconds before he opens them again, except when he does they aren't blue, but red.

When Derek looks around, he doesn't even know why he's doing it, it just seems instinctual. The first thing he notices is Malia, a few yards away, mobile still in hand, she tilts her head to the side the moment their eyes meet, baring her neck to him. Beside her, Noah turns to look at Malia, then back at Derek, and finally tilts his head too, just slightly, but its enough. By the time Derek's eyes turn to one side, Lydia's head is already cocked, she has even pulled her hair over her opposite shoulder for good measure. Jackson, even as out of it as he is, follows suit. As does Peter, crouched on Derek's other side, beside Stiles.

However, when Stiles goes to follow suit, Derek stops him. He's not even fully sure why he does it, it just seems right; or rather, it doesn't seem right for Stiles to submit to him.

"Not you." Derek states. "You're my equal Stiles. And you always will be."

Stiles nods, his eyes shining bright with tears he refuses to let fall.

"Jackson…" Derek murmurs, turning his attention back to the bleeding boy. "This is not how it should be done. We should have taken time. For you to learn about what it means to be a werewolf, the changes you will undergo. The good things and the bad, the risks…"

"That'd be good man… if I weren't dying." Jackson managed to spit, teeth red and blood on the edge of his mouth. "Now… what say we just jump ahead all that and you bite me now?"

A part of Derek doesn't like it. As great as the power rushing through him is, as much as he wants, needs a pack… the Bite is a gift, and it doesn't feel right to give it to someone who doesn't fully understand what they're getting into. But at the same time, if he doesn't do it, Jackson will die. And that's wrong in so many ways…

So Derek takes Jackson's offered arm, and bites into his wrist. Lydia holds on tighter onto his other hand, but whatever pain Jackson might be in, he doesn't make a sound, just holds on. Whether it be because he's so weak, or something else, the change takes almost right away, or at least it begins to. There's very little blood coming out of the bite-mark on Jackson's wrist, and soon enough the bleeding of his stomach slows down as well. When Lydia stops clenching her teeth together so tight she's practically grinding them they all knows it's worked. And it's also right about then that they all begin hearing the sirens.

"You need to take Jackson and go." Stiles states.

"You need to all get out." Noah corrects.

"Wha…?" Even Stiles wasn't expecting that one.

"I can justify Peter and I being here and finding this lot." Noah motions at the hunters. "Most of them were hit by bullets and the guns are all in my name; even the ones taken down by spells, it's easy enough to just say they were knocked out with a blunt weapon of some kind, even the butt of a gun. I can make it believable. But I cannot explain you being here, any of you. If your presence goes on record questions will be asked. The kind none of us want to have to answer."

Stiles hates that his dad is right. He really does. But in the end they take off. Moving as fast as they can, they place Jackson in the back of his Porsche. Lydia on the passenger seat, twisted in such a way that her whole attention is on him, Stiles behind the wheel. Derek and Malia for their part run through the woods. They will all be meeting back at the Stilinski place. It goes against all of Derek's brand new alpha instincts to leave his newly turned Beta, his first Beta, but he knows that's how it has to be. Also, Jackson's with Stiles, which means he'll be as safe as can be.

**xXx**

Jackson wakes up on blankets and pillows, surrounded by bodies. It's not exactly a new thing, if one was to be completely honest. However, he feels different about it than he ever has before, it might be because he's a wolf now. Before it had been all about the comfort, pure and simple. Nice in ways he couldn't put into words. Now, it's not that he's gotten any better at the words, but that more than nice, it feels right. It feels comfortable, peaceful, he's with pack, and that makes everything right (also, the fact that he's no longer dying, and all that's left from last night's ordeal is a lightening scar in the middle of his stomach is great too).

It's the morning and if he focuses on his heightened hearing he can hear someone working in the kitchen, drinking coffee, probably the sheriff, or Peter, or both; there's someone showering in the bathroom upstairs, and another person moving silently inside one of the rooms (silently enough to be a wolf, which means either Peter or Derek).

Focusing closer to himself Jackson can feel Lydia laying on top of him, still, exactly where she fell asleep the night prior. Ear right over his heart… he remembers Stiles explaining why:

" _You know that Lydia's a banshee, she's connected to death, can hear those on the other side of the veil if she concentrates, and she wails when there's death coming." Stiles explained. "A banshee bound to a family or pack, like her, screams to announce the death of those she's bound to. Sometimes they might even get a sense with enough time to warn them, but that doesn't happen very often." He takes a deep breath. "And then… well, I don't know if this is extremely rare, or entirely unique to Lydia. She can hold back her scream. It takes a lot of power, and a hell of a strong will, but she can hold back her scream. Not for long but… well, as you can probably see, it can be game-changing…"_

Yeah, Jackson can see. Even if it was never explicitly said, he understands. Lydia fought to hold back her scream, and that somehow helped save his life. Gave him, them, the time necessary for Derek to become an alpha and give him the bite. He's also quite certain he won't be the only bitten wolf for long. Issac and Erica already expressed a desire to be turned. It doesn't matter how many times Derek tells them it isn't simple, that they need to first understand what it is all about, the consequences, the dangers… he doubts it'll change anything. Jackson knows that even without that bullet in his gut he still would have chosen to take the bite, to be part of the pack… well, they were already a pack, but still.

"Te amo (I love you)…" Lydia whispers the words straight into Jackson's chest, still half-asleep.

"Love you too," He whispers into her hair in return. "Always."

He has no idea what may be yet to come, but he knows that as long as he has Lydia, and the pack, he'll be alright. They all will be alright…

**Author's Note:**

> So... that confrontation is done. What do you think? Good? Bad? Insane (that one's probably a given)? That scene at the beginning, the two groups standing face to face, I saw it so clearly inside my mind, it made me want to write this series, so I jumped into it, everything else was built around this scene (and the other two points mentioned in the initial notes). Also, I took the chance to make my favorite characters (mainly Stiles, and also Lydia, and Noah a bit too) as badass as possible.
> 
> Another important part of this was that I never liked the whole 'true alpha' shtick they pulled in the series. It was obviously a move to push up the main character without having him kill someone else, because he was young and they didn't want to deal with that. But it always made me feel like, using that as an excuse they made Scott too self-righteous. The way he treated Stiles sometimes, like when he killed in self-defense... I hated how he treated the one who was supposed to be his best friend, his almost-brother, and considering that Scott wouldn't have lasted two days after being bitten without Stiles's help! (And while some might blame Stiles for Scott being bitten in the first place, it was still each of their choice to go into the woods that night, regardless of whose idea it might have been originally). Originally I was going to just say, to hell with the TA bs and be done with it... but then I decided to twist it what I believe it should have been. Because you cannot have an alpha who doesn't kill anyone, how can he/she protect their pack from the real, big threats if they never kill? Did the writers really think that all the enemies would be cowed by a slap on the wrist? That's ridiculous! So... I decided to do things my way, hope you like my particular spin to the TA idea and how one 'ascends' (and of course that TA had to be Derek but that was a given from the start). 
> 
> Now, this piece set the grounds for the next one, which I'm sure is what many of you have been waiting for from the start. Brace yourselves people and consider this your one and only warning because STEREK IS COMING! And that means Angst, and love, and fluff, and obviously action and... did I mention Angst? Yeah, see you all in two weeks and don't forget to _Listen to the Wind..._


End file.
